Cold

How can you call me cold,

When you gave me This heart of ice?

How can you judge me

When your feet can never fit in my shoes?

How can you persecute me,

When you barely know me?

How can you claim you know me

When you’ve only heard of me through walls

Even in my sleep,

It aches to no end.

The pain,

engraved into my finger tips.

You will only understand me

When you hear it from my mouth

And mine alone.

They say

I’m broken,

short tempered,

confused

and ignorant

before you pass your judgement

Ask yourself why.

~The_Bona-fide.Scholar